In Rome, Restoring a Vast Repository of the Jewish Past

After years of delay, the ancient Jewish catacombs under Rome’s Villa Torlonia are set for restoration

An arcosolium, or arched recess, in the Jewish catacombs under Villa Torlonia, with several burial cells and a richly decorated ceiling depicting stars and planets.
Photo:
Municipality of Rome

By

John Hooper

Updated Jan. 11, 2017 1:06 pm ET

Tucked away on the grounds of Villa Torlonia, a stately mansion in northern Rome, a staircase overhung with creepers leads down to an underground area measuring almost three football fields and harboring an archaeological treasure.

Beyond a black door begin two interconnecting catacombs—webs of passageways lined with niches for the burial of the dead. The niches run parallel to the walls and are stacked up to five high. Here and there are grander recesses where the more prosperous of the deceased were interred in sarcophagi.

Traditionally, the ancient Romans cremated their dead. But cremation was abhorrent to Rome’s Christian and Jewish minorities. Since land was scarce and costly, it made sense for both communities to bury their dead underground. Most of the 40 catacombs discovered in other areas beneath the old imperial city served Christians, but the two under Villa Torlonia were created for the city’s sizable community of Jews.

This week, a central-government budget went into effect which, after more than 10 years of delay, allots €1.4 million (about $1.5 million) to restoring Villa Torlonia’s Jewish catacombs. If things work out, within a few years—maybe even next year—the public will be able to see an “area of extraordinary historic importance,” as
Claudio Procaccia,
director of the Department of Jewish Culture of the Jewish community of Rome, calls the site.

Paintings of stars, planets, peacocks and pomegranates decorate the walls and ceilings, along with a dolphin arching over a trident. One of the grander niches has small columns at each corner and a frescoed cross vault with a depiction of a menorah. There are images of sacred Jewish symbols, including an ark with the scrolls of the Torah, and several inscriptions referring to synagogues in the city.

But as
Monica Zelinotti,
the architect charged with managing the restoration, says, not every visitor to Rome will be eager to explore these catacombs. Gouged out of brownish-gray rock, they are eerie places: damp, claustrophobic and, of course, scattered with human remains. “The humidity can be as high as 100%,” says Ms. Zelinotti. The ceilings of the passageways are low. “In places, the space between the niches is no more than the width of your shoulders,” she adds.

Currently, a main passageway illuminated by construction lighting winds through the catacombs. Off it run more than a dozen side-passages that disappear into darkness. Many of the bones of the dead have disappeared, though why, where or when is unknown. “So far, I have not come across a single complete skeleton,” says Ms. Zelinotti.

The main passageway through the Jewish catacombs under Villa Torlonia.
Photo:
Municipality of Rome

At its peak, ancient Rome’s Jewish community is thought to have numbered around 30,000 out of a total population estimated at between 500,000 and one million. The earliest Jews came to Rome as traders in the second century B.C. By 59 B.C., they were sufficiently numerous for Cicero, defending a Roman official accused of appropriating funds for Jerusalem’s great Temple, to complain that large numbers of Jews had turned up at the trial to root for the prosecution.

After the Roman Empire sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the city’s Temple in A.D. 70, Rome became a place of refuge for Jews.

But Villa Torlonia has sinister associations.
Benito Mussolini
lived here, signing off on anti-Jewish laws. Later, he helped send around 7,000 Italian Jews to die in Nazi death camps.

The website of the Vatican lists a half-dozen Christian catacombs open to the public, and for many decades tours have made stops at them. The first Jewish catacomb was discovered in the 17th century. Workmen hit upon the warren-like cemetery under Villa Torlonia while reinforcing the foundations of the stables in 1918.

Over the centuries, six Jewish catacombs have been discovered in the honeycomb rock beneath Rome. Some have since caved in; others are inaccessible under privately owned land. In 2012, archaeologists discovered part of a catacomb after a sinkhole opened up and swallowed a truck. Last year, one Jewish catacomb on the outskirts of Rome opened to the public, but for only a couple of weeks.

Ms. Zelinotti says that her biggest task will be to stabilize the Villa Torlonia site. In parts, the walls between niches have given way. In one place, the ground above is sagging. She and her colleagues will have to find a way to protect the wall paintings. The humidity in the catacombs is so high that some are permanently dotted with droplets of water. “The moment we bring in visitors, more fresh air will circulate,” says Ms. Zelinotti. “The water will evaporate and may carry away the pigment.”

For Mr. Procaccia, the benefits of opening up the catacombs far outweigh the risks. He hopes for a new program of scholarly investigation and excavation. “There is a world to be discovered down there,” he says.

Corrections & Amplifications: Mussolini helped send around 7,000 Italian Jews to die in Nazi death camps. An earlier version of this article incorrectly stated that he alone sent the Jews to their deaths.